


Is This Real Life, Or Is This Just a Fantasy?

by murrimabutterfly



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:34:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24465772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murrimabutterfly/pseuds/murrimabutterfly
Summary: Lance starts to realize his feelings for a very certain mullet, and can't even escape his crisis in a dream.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 73





	Is This Real Life, Or Is This Just a Fantasy?

**Author's Note:**

> I blame alcohol and a Klance analysis video for this. PS, I'm bad at titles.
> 
> Also, this is the first time in a long time I've dabbled in smut, so criticism is greatly appreciated.

Lance was starting to realize he didn’t hate Keith—he hated the way he felt about Keith. No, that wasn’t right either; it wasn’t that he hated his feelings, but rather something more complex. Something Lance was only just starting to develop the self-awareness to realize: it was the loss of control.

As much as Lance was laid-back and goofy and spontaneous, he couldn’t stand not being in control. And feeling the way about Keith as he did totally ripped that control away. Lance liked _girls_ —boobs, tight waists, silky hair perfumed by floral shampoo. Or, at least anything that had a passing resemblance to human females.

He had come to his realization about the fact he was stuck in the beginning of a rivals-turned-lovers trope during one of his many “relief sessions.” Much to his simultaneous pride and irritation, Lance had a high libido; he’d often have to sneak away to find some private corner of the giant ship that wasn’t actually all that private to keep it in check.

He’d settled in what seemed like a secondary med bay and brought forth the image of an alien girl he’d seen on one of their missions. As he viciously stroked, willing it to be done quickly, the alien girl had begun to morph. Her dusty-pink skin blanched into a milky peach seen on the palest of humans; the bone growths on her chest that resembled breasts sunk in, leaving a smooth expanse of skin; the tendrils on the top of her head fell off and were magically replaced with a mop of dark hair; her position changed, so she was no longer an image just staring at him—her body bent over, ass in the air, encouraging Lance to enter; her light gasps grew deeper, throatier. Lance had begun to recognize the body in front of him, but his subconscious and libido were a wicked team; the thought of how tight Keith must be from training so much, honing his body into its top form, floated in his head, and his libido agreed that fucking Keith must be like a dream. Fantasy-Keith made delicious moaning noises, voice rising to a keen as Lance pounded into him; his body was vice-like, erotic squared, encouraging Lance into a body-shaking orgasm. Fantasy-Keith whined for more, lavender-grey eyes looking desperately at him; Lance tried to oblige, body collapsing as another climax rolled through his system.

As the haze settled, shame and anger had begun to sink in. He’d just had the most intense fantasy and orgasm of his life, and it was about _Keith_. His fantasies were typically simple, if he even bother constructing one; he had never had one so real, so tantalizing—he could still hear Fantasy-Keith’s keening, begging him to continue.

As he had lain there, trying to regain the ability to move, his brain was at war. The primal part of his brain argued, _Orgasm good; does it matter who it’s with?_ , while his more rational side tried to reason that it was _Keith_ , his teammate, his rival, Shiro’s and the Garrison’s golden boy. Angsty, irritable Keith. Someone with a rod so far up their ass there was no room for anything else.

Lance was ruminating on this as he tried to fall asleep, as he had almost every night since his subconscious and libido launched a coup against him. _Would it really be_ that _bad to just…accept he wasn’t as straight as he thought he was? Maybe he’s just the eensiest bit not-straight—I mean, Keith was pretty damn close to a girl, with his flawless skin and silky hair and delicate features._

His thoughts/existential crisis was interrupted by a crackle that sounded like the intercom—which, after Lance had a _bit_ too much fun messing around with it, was banned from use except for emergencies. The intercom crackled again. “L-Lance,” Keith’s voice stuttered out, sounding desperate. “Keith? What’s up?” Lance was, admittedly, on guard. His rival-slash-confusing-maybe-crush was contacting him the middle of the night. On a system they weren’t supposed to use, no less.

Keith made a sharp noise that sounded like pain before he slurred out something unintelligible. Lance bolted upright, tearing off his sheets and dashing out the door before his brain had time to catch up or register he was only in a T-shirt and boxers. This was bad. Like, _bad_ bad. Keith was in distress—in _pain_ —and had used the banned intercom to call _Lance_. Distress beacon 101.

Keith’s door automatically slid open as Lance approached it; he barreled inside, immediately halting. A shirtless Keith was leaned against the wall holding the intercom, skin flushed and eyes dazed. Sweat made a steady path down his pained face. Instinctively, Lance approached him, holding his own hand against Keith’s brow. “Dude, you’re burning up,” Lance said, all intentions to be snarky and obstinate forgotten. “I know,” Keith whined, slumping down. Lance slung Keith’s arm around his neck and guided his fellow paladin to his bed; Keith made pathetic whimpering noises each time his body moved. Keith clung desperately to Lance as the blue paladin attempted to lower him into his bed. Keith hiccupped out something that had the same syllables and vocal pattern as, “Make it stop.”

“Dude, you need Shiro? Allura? Anyone?” Lance asked, as Keith gripped harder onto Lance; he whimpered out the same unintelligible rhythm of syllables. As Lance tried to untangle himself, Keith let out a sharp gasp as Lance’s knee unintentionally brushed Keith’s thigh; Keith moaned, pelvis arcing upward. “Lance,” he hummed, distress still evident. “Keith, dude, what’s wrong?” Lance asked, concern lacing his voice.

Keith wriggled his crotch lower, aligning with Lance’s thigh as he gently rocked his pelvis. “Lance,” he moaned out; Lance was steadily growing concerned and creeped out. Keith brought Lance down, savagely meeting his lips with Keith’s own. He nibbled, sucked, bit, and teased, tongue lapping hungrily across Lance’s lips and darting into Lance’s mouth.

Lance looked into Keith’s desperate eyes, equally perturbed and intrigued. Keith’s crotch ground against Lance’s leg again, the kiss deepening and intensifying as a moan vibrated though Keith. He repeated Lance’s name, a note of keening now present.

Keith unlatched his hands from Lance’s shirt, bringing them lower—snaking into Lance’s boxers and finding his cock. Lance tried to break away, but Keith’s grip was steel. “Keith, dude—” Lance managed out, just as Keith’s mouth clashed against his own. Keith stroked Lance experimentally, as if appraising him; Keith used his legs and remaining hand to shove Lance onto his back, head dipping low as soon as it was accomplished, hands yanking down Lance’s boxers.

Keith’s tongue languidly caressed Lance’s cock, causing the blue paladin to shudder. “Keith, are you sure?” Lance managed out as Keith’s warm mouth enveloped the head of his shaft. Keith licked the tip lightly, tongue swirling dangerously around the peak. Keith lowered his mouth onto Lance’s cock, taking it completely in his mouth as he licked and teased the entirety of it; he began to pull back, cheeks sucking in to create a delicious level of suction.

Keith’s tongue dipped and darted and danced as his head bobbed back and forth; Lance nearly writhed in pleasure, any and all protests dying in his throat—replaced instead by soft moans. Keith’s fingers found a way into Lance’s mouth, a weird but oddly erotic experience when coupled with the mouth on his dick. Encouraged by Keith wiggling his fingers, Lance licked and sucked each one.

At this point, he was all but convinced that this was a seriously vivid, slightly lucid wet dream. It was the only explanation—and he’d be damned if he didn’t take full advantage of it. If Dream Keith wanted his fingers sucked while he himself sucked on Lance’s rigid cock, then so be it. Whatever Dream Keith wanted, Lance would oblige.

Keith’s hand slipped out of Lance’s mouth and Lance watched as Keith pulled down his pajama bottoms and boxers to slip a few fingers inside himself. Keith’s moan of pleasure vibrated on Lance’s cock, bringing Lance ever closer to orgasm.

Keith pulled his mouth off Lance’s dick with a wet pop. Lance nearly protested, but Keith deftly pulled something out of his nightstand—lube, to be exact. And possibly what seemed to be a condom. 

Okay, _definitely_ a condom—a weird, pink, bumpy condom that was noticeably wet on the inside. Keith rolled it over Lance’s cock in a way that seemed impossibly sensual. Lance honestly could never imagine putting a condom on as being a sexy part of the sex experience, but Dream Keith was proving him wrong.

Dick sheathed and dripping with lube, Lance watched as Keith positioned himself, carefully lowering onto Lance. He gasped and gripped as Lance’s dick entered, but eased himself down until Lance’s entire dick was in him. Keith attempted a few half-hearted humps, but his body quaked and seemed at the verge of collapse.

Lance gently pushed him so Keith was on bottom and Lance was on top; Lance draped Keith’s legs on his shoulders and gave a few experimental thrusts. Keith vibrated with pleasure, dick becoming noticeably strained.

Lance thrust deeper, longer, harder, and Keith responded beautifully, whining and keening. It wasn’t hard to find Keith’s prostate—he’d let out a sharp, hitched gasp and devolve into moans if Lance kept at that angle. Lance thrust deeply, making sure the head of his dick would at least nick Keith’s most sensitive parts.

Keith slurred out a moan as Lance rhythmically attacked Keith’s walls. Lance was by no means experienced, but Keith was so sensitive and far-gone that it wouldn’t take much to turn him into an incoherent mess—which Lance was steadily achieving.

Keith shuddered and keened when Lance hit his prostate a little harder than intended. Lance was trying to be gentle, but Keith kept bucking and writhing and shifting. But that noise—that utter, primal sound—had gotten to Lance in a way only his dick could fully understand; he knocked against it again, and Keith let out the sensual noise again. Keith’s dick twitched hopelessly as Lance deliberately hit that small knot of nerves yet again.

Lance thumbed the top of Keith’s cock as he hit that one spot; Keith let out a shrill gasp, clamping vice-like against Lance.

Lance, admittedly, lost control after that.

He rammed carelessly into Keith, viciously stroking his cock as the red paladin shrieked and writhed and moaned; any attempts at speech on Keith’s end was just slurred babbling. Keith began to rock his hips to the best of his ability, seeming to ask Lance to go faster, stroke him harder. Lance obliged, digging into him deeper and going as fast as the position would allow; he slipped out twice before realizing this wasn’t the position for the hard sex Dream Keith was asking for. Lance pulled out, to which Keith let out a miserable whine. “Flip over for me,” Lance instructed; Keith’s eyes lit up and he eagerly turned over, ass in the air. As Lance entered and Keith let out a wonderful moan, Lance nearly laughed—it was his fantasy come to life, dream confirmed even further.

Lance began picking up speed and Keith responded beautifully—moaning and crying out at each thrust. He found he was hitting Keith’s prostate more regularly, Keith’s body turning into a shuddering mess. Keith’s dick was leaking precum and Keith himself seemed to be close to his limit. Lance thrust deeply, pulling Keith’s hips closer as he did; Keith keened and shook, dick twitching. Lance did this again, delighting in Keith’s response. New ‘thing’ found, Lance pulled Keith in each time he thrust.

Keith moaned long and hard as his entire body shook; Lance picked up speed, feeling the tingling warmth in his own cock. Keith juddered, cum spilling onto the bed and onto his own stomach. Lance thrust purposely a few more times, exploding into the condom as Keith’s vibrations thrummed through his cock. Keith collapsed as Lance pulled out, utterly spent. After pulling off and tossing the condom, Lance was tempted to just lay down with him, but this was _his_ dream fantasy, and Lance was nothing if not a gentleman—in his mind, at least.

He flipped Keith back over, grabbing tissues to wipe him up. Keith’s eyes followed him, but seemed to convey he was just too tired to be bothered to help. Lance didn’t mind—he actually found he liked cleaning his partner up ( _maybe a weird domestic kink?_ Lance wondered).

When Lance went to grab the comforter—he wanted to finish this fantasy right, with a solid post-coital snugglefest, but figured sleeping under a lube-and-cum smeared blanket wasn’t the way to go—Keith managed to skoosh into the corner of the bed so Lance could pull it off. After stripping off his shirt and putting his boxers back on, Lance pulled back the sheets; he and Keith quickly found comfortable spooning positions. Even though they were skin-to-skin—Keith being utterly naked—there was nothing erotic about it. It was just…contentment.

Lance woke up slowly, noticing a definite ache to some of his muscles, as if he’d been overexerting himself in training—a rare, if not nonexistent, occurrence. He also noticed a weight on his arm, the warmth of another body. He opened his eyes. A mess of black hair, the hint of a pale neck greeted him.

 _Oh,_ quiznacking _quiznack_ , Lance thought—immediately repeating it as Keith’s body stretched, then grew rigid. Keith was awake. _Naked_ and awake, in a bed with Lance. Keith shifted the sheets, seeming to look under them before tensing. “Lance…?” Keith asked uncertainly; Lance tensed. It was one thing to have wet dream about someone—it was something entirely different to realize it actually happened. Keith attempted to move, wincing before cursing loudly. “Yeah, it’s me,” Lance said after a brief inner battle, deciding it was easier to just reveal who was in the bed and avoid having to make Keith—who probably couldn’t even stand today—move.

Keith cursed again. “Um, do you—do you want to talk about…it?” Lance offered awkwardly. Keith hissed as he flipped around, though it was hard to tell if it was from pain or anger. But, given Keith’s expression, Lance would guess both. “About what? The fact _you_ came into my room and did whatever the fuck that was to me?” Keith snarled. “ _You_ called _me_! I thought you were sick or something! And _you_ touched my dick first!” Lance snapped, voice softening as he added, “Do you really not remember?” A knot of dread twisted in Lance’s stomach. He was Loverboy Lance— _consensual_ Loverboy Lance; even if he did push boundaries a bit, he always knew when to stop. And last night, he admittedly didn’t really think about what was okay—though in his defense, he was didn’t know it was real! 

“Why would you fuck someone you thought was sick!?” Keith bit back.

“I thought it was a dream!” slipped out before Lance could catch it. Keith looked taken aback for a moment. “A _dream_?” he repeated slowly. “You have dreams about _that_ —with _me_?”

Lance couldn’t tell if it was disgust or confusion on Keith’s face. “Whatever. It’s just—whatever! What about you? You practically came when my knee touched your thigh—you got all handsy and demanding!” Lance knew it was childish to divert like this, but it was the best defense he had in the moment.

Keith let out a long, frustrated, pained sigh. “It was just supposed to be anxiety medicine,” Keith said, defensive aggression bleeding away. Lance was very confused, and was certain it showed on his face. “At the—at the last space mall, I bought it from a vendor. I know it was stupid to buy drugs from aliens, but Coran said it was the safest sector in the universe. The guy said it would help me relax, take the edge off or something.” Keith’s eyes went wide. “And then he handed me lube and condoms—oh, shit. Oh _fuck_. I thought—I thought it was a weird freebie, like something customary for his people.”

Lance began laughing. He didn’t mean to—but the thought of naïve Keith not understanding the vendor’s double-speak even _after_ getting the freebies was hilarious. “You bought alien aphrodisiac!” Lance giggled out. His laughter evaporated as it sunk in. “Wait, you’d used the aphrodisiac…and then called _me_ when you were in your weird heat thing.” Another thought crushed the momentary happiness. “Was it—was it like being drugged? Were you fully aware? Oh, shit did I take advantage of you?” Lance couldn’t keep the panic from pitching his voice up.

Keith flushed—which felt very weird to witness. Mr. Stone-and-Ice, _embarrassed_? “Um, no, I was—I mean, it was—fine. Wanted, or whatever,” he stammered out. Lance studied Keith for a while, thoughts clicking into place. “Fuck, we’re stupid aren’t we?” Lance sighed out; Keith looked very offended. “I mean—it’s just, if _that’s_ what you wanted, then—and I hated the control thing—and—” Lance stopped mid-babble. “Um, it’s just—we’ve always fought, but maybe we weren’t fighting about what we thought we were, um, fighting about.”

“I never said I wanted it just with you,” Keith retorted. “Mm, pretty sure you did. Panting and moaning my name,” Lance teased. Keith pushed him lightly, wincing a little at the movement. “God, dude, I’m so sorry.” Lance’s voice was soft, remorseful—but it was clear he was more referring to Keith’s pain than the taunt or months of antagonistic behavior. “I still can’t believe you thought it was a dream,” Keith said. “Look, I was thinking about a weird thing that happened during Lance time—when your stupid mullet and purple eyes took over a nice image—and then I heard your voice on the banned intercom. Considering what happened felt like a porn video, I just figured I fell asleep and that was what my stupid brain came up with,” Lance explained defensively.

“Wait, you _jacked off_ to me?” Keith asked, voice pitching up.

“I should get you ice or pain meds or something,” Lance said. Keith laughed a couple of times before moaning. “Fuck, I thought you were some showboating straight guy—I thought you were untouchable!” he said, laughter receding.

“ _You_ hijacked Lance time!” Lance snapped defensively.

“Jesus, we _are_ dumb, aren’t we? I mean, you more than me, but— _fuck_. I thought I had no chance with you, _especially_ when you started acting like such a dick. God, I should have seen the gay crisis beacon.” Keith laughed a few more times before moaning.

“Alright, dude, I’m going to go find you something to help you,” Lance said, sitting up. Keith attempted as well, making a sharp noise of pain just before collapsing down. “Next time, he’s on bottom,” Keith mumbled more to himself than anything. “ _Next_ time?” Lance wiggled his eyebrows. Keith rolled his eyes before beckoning Lance closer, as if he was going to whisper something. Keith kissed Lance gently, nipping his lip a bit harder than necessary as he pulled away. “I’m going to make you _pay_ for this,” he snarled, though it held no animosity—more of an echo, a parody of his usual curt tone.

“Looking forward to it!” Lance said chipperly, untangling himself from Keith as he rolled out of bed. Lance bent down, lightly kissing Keith before throwing his shirt back on and borrowing Keith’s pajama bottoms, which were a touch too short. “I’ll be back soon. Just, take a nap or something and don’t move,” he said, strutting out the automatic door.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: this has been gathering dust in my hard drive for months as I've heavily debated publishing this mess. I'm still not satisfied, but I think it works well enough.


End file.
